


Higanbana Raft

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Antagonism, Caretaking, Complicated Relationships, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotionally Repressed, Flowers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, KamuKoma Week 2018, Language of Flowers, M/M, Mental Instability, Mild Blood, Sick Character, Sickfic, Ultimate Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 23:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15399819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: Kamukura's assigned to take care of Komaeda while he's sick and after the members of SHSL Despair have already had their fun. Komaeda is, unsurprisingly, not too happy with this turn of events.





	Higanbana Raft

**Author's Note:**

> I love red spider lilies so fucking much and probably went overboard.
> 
> Anyway~ this is the first fic out of seven that's gonna be posted for the KamuKoma Week I'm hosting over on tumblr! I got pretty excitable, so you're gonna be seeing some stuuuuuuff.
> 
> But for now this is just one of those "character a is sick; character b takes care of them" stories. A classic.
> 
> Their relationship is pretty bite-y and I enjoy writing it that way. :P

_“Our most precious Komaeda-kun is sick!”_

Vivid crimson red spider lilies decorate the room and windows as though the very area had burst into bloom.

_“Thus, we have to do our beeeeeeary best to help him feel better! Upupupu!”_

For anyone else, the room would be blinding from the lights to the white, white walls and tiles, making the crimson red stand out all the more.

_“After all, we’re all comrades, aren’t we? Comrades in despair!”_

Her scratchy, unpleasant, saccharine laughter rings in his ears as he steps into the room.

_“So, Kamukura-kun, would you please take the best of care of him for us?”_

Komaeda Nagito was curled in on himself in the bed, trembling and coughing up a storm. The room was awash with the scent of spider lilies and sick. The blankets are too thick. Komaeda Nagito is feverishly flushed. Red on white. Just like the flowers along the walls and window sill.

Komaeda manages to catch his breath, swallowing back saliva into his dry throat. He could tell so very easily that such an action hurt with how Komaeda rubbed at his throat almost sullenly.

“...I really am under a bout of horrible luck...” He mutters it harshly as though the very words scrape against his vocal chords. “For you of all people to check up on me... Well, I suppose it’s only hurting my pride. A _ha_. Hhck.”

Another hacking cough. Kamukura sets out the bottle of water he brought along with the necessary pills.

“Coupled with your frailer disposition,” Kamukura says, brushing his hair back. “Along with the sadistic, poisonous tendencies of those who were supposedly ‘tending’ to you... It really is just your luck that you are still alive in spite of everything, Komaeda Nagito.”

Komaeda lets out a wheezy giggle, twisting to shakily push himself up. He smiles calmly even though his eyes are heavy with darkening, swirling despair.

“It’s just my luck,” he repeated lightly. He takes the water, he swallows back pills and drowns them with well-worn familiarity. “I know that. But with you here, I guess that means that they’re sick of me being sick. Ehe. Such _kindness_ my class shows!”

_Spoken with nothing short of a cheerful contempt._

Kamukura glances towards the flowers left behind. With a glance, he can pick out which ones are more wilted than the others.

Komaeda coughs a few times and lies back down.

“Ah... Hah... It really hurts, being like this... It’s really annoying, too...” Another cough he tries to cover, another spasm, and another sniffle. “This is just...inconvenience... It’s not really despair. I was just being tormented for _entertainment_.”

“Yes.” That much was obvious from the start. It’s boring that Komaeda Nagito pointed it out now. “But you had expected this treatment, had you not?”

Shifting. Sniffling. Shivering.

“...that’s a horrible show of bedside manners,” Komaeda murmurs, almost glumly. “Even Matsuda-kun wouldn’t have been so rude.”

For a while, they were both quiet. Then, Komaeda sneezed and messily wiped it away with his stained, crumbled handkerchief.

Then, a sigh.

Kamukura turns away.

“You will not recover like this. One second.”

“Ehhhh?” Komaeda whines. “No, I don’t want _yoooour_ help!”

“If you wish to recover,” Kamukura said coldly over his shoulder. “Then that want is detrimental. A contradiction. **_Foolishness_**.”

Komaeda pouts at him.

It’s not playful like she would be. It’s not like how Matsuda Yasuke’s irritated scowls had been, although he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the face Komaeda Nagito had foolishly wanted to make.

Instead, it’s just pathetic.

Kamukura goes and fetches the necessary supplies and aide without another word.

* * *

When he returns, Komaeda is still in a poor mood. That much is clear.

At the very least, he’s passive and docile as Kamukura wipes him down, even as he winces, grimaces, and squirms out of habit under his touch.

Kamukura is swift and efficient. He might as well be.

Komaeda sighs as Kamukura sticks the cooling pad to his forehead. And then, Komaeda is the one looking at the flowers.

“...when I was little, I got really sick while my parents were away for work. I was home alone, I was probably crying, I was...” He trails off. “I was probably despairing. But, it was my own fault I had to be alone like that. My own bad luck.”

Then, a laugh.

“When my parents got back... Mama fed me. Papa read me a story. After I got better, they took me to the amusement park. It was a lot of fun.” Another laugh, harsher than before. “And then, there had been an accident. Seven people died. A flu had spread. The park was closed indefinitely. We could never go back.”

There’s nothing to say. Not in response to that.

“You should eat something,” Kamukura said instead. “I will prepare you porridge, then. There are fresh ingredients being stored here that I can use.”

“You’re going to detoxify them, right?” Komaeda asked quietly.  “Because I just know those ingredients are all poisoned.”

“I know,” Kamukura said. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

Komaeda twists onto his side, fingers pressed onto the cooling pad lest it slipped off.

“Nothing, you say... Okay then, I suppose.”

That was really all there was to it. Except for one thing.

“I don’t really like sweet things,” Komaeda murmured. “So if you’re going to add something like honey, can you at least use salt to offset it?”

“Very well.”

* * *

“Ah, thank you for the meal.” Komaeda sends a prayer, and then blows his nose. “Mmm... Wow, even a boring bowl of daikon looks elite when you’re the one who made it.”

“It is a basic remedy.”

Komaeda takes the bowl and takes a bite, sipping at the shaved ice added. He swallows without any trouble. This fact seems to irritate him.

_How boring._

“You really are so disgustingly good at even the most basic things,” Komaeda says, and then sighs. “It tastes really good. Thank you.”

He continues to eat.

“Mm, mm. Yeah, with something like this, I should be...” A sudden shudder. A wince. Komaeda rubbed his throat. “Mmgh.”

Kamukura had expected this of course. He takes the handkerchief Komaeda had been using. At that, Komaeda jumped and protested.

“Wait—!”

But already, Kamukura had observed the stains. He could smell it just as keenly as he sees it. Bitter iron. A dark burgundy. Blood.

“...uu...” Komaeda whines, sipping irritably at another spoonful. “It’s fine. Since the coughing will go down after I finish this, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Kamukura sets the fabric aside.

“Nothing to worry about!” Komaeda exclaimed. Then, he grumbled. “Still, you really started me... You should’ve already known that I cut my throat from coughing so much...”

“I did.” He had. Of course. “It is as you said. It will be fine.”

“Then why concern yourself?” Komaeda mumbled more than asked. “Now that I think about it—that was weird of you to do, Kamukura-kun.”

_Wasn’t it._

It was. There had been no point to the action.

“Aha... Haha...” Komaeda giggles weakly. “So even Kamukura-kun wants to torment me... I really have gotten so pitiful.”

**_No._ **

“No,” he said. “No, that is wrong.”

“ _Hmm_?” Komaeda smiles at him blankly, watery eyes glassy. He takes another bite of daikon. “Whatever do you mean _wrong_? What other reason could it possibly be?”

“...impulse.” Kamukura lowers his gaze, fidgeting in a way he hadn’t for a while. “It was nothing more than an act of impulse. No underlying motivation. Certainly nothing born of malice. Do not group me with _them_ , Komaeda Nagito, especially if you deny your own attachment.”

Komaeda considers it, humming some more.

“...even if that’s true, you’re still a tool of _despair_ , Kamukura-kun.” His smile widens. “You always have been.”

Kamukura can only exhale softly.

“Boring. Believe what you wish.”

With that, he turns away.

“After you’ve finished eating. Rest for a bit. That should ease the recovery process. I’ll return when you wake.”

“Ehhhh? You’re like a nurse, Kamukura-kun!”

“Is that not the duty being performed?” he asked bluntly. “That is what I am here to do after all. Nurse you back to health.”

Komaeda blinks a few times, mouth a circle of awe.

“I’m really lucky!” he chirped. “Having such a handsome nurse tend to me!” His smile dropped and shattered like porcelain. “It’s just unfortunate that it has to be _you_.”

“Say what you will.” _Believe what you will._ “Just...get some rest, Komaeda Nagito.”

“Yessir!”

* * *

When he checks on Komaeda, the other is fast asleep.

Komaeda, despite everything, sleeps peacefully.

Kamukura takes the empty bowl. Komaeda sighs softly, shifting ever so slightly.

“Mm...”

There’s a slight flutter to Komaeda’s eyelashes. A slight twitch and twist of his lips.

As Kamukura idly strokes those soft ivory strands back, Komaeda’s features pinch up.

Komaeda shivers, his intake of breath hitching.

Kamukura is about to say something to perhaps soothe him, but then, Komaeda murmurs the name of someone long dead.

Tears cling to those snowy white lashes.

He murmurs another name. Another person long dead.

Several of those flowers are wilting. Perhaps Kamukura should pull them out and dispose of them.

And, then.

“Mama... Papa...”

Kamukura wipes those tears away, but more are beading in the crevices. Sighing, he resumes brushing back Komaeda’s hair.

_Komaeda Nagito is...truly a frustrating person, but... He is not a bad person at heart. Even I know this._

He remains there until Komaeda begins to stir, curling in on himself. He only leaves because there is more to prepare before Komaeda wakes.

* * *

For no particular reason, there is a moment that he recalls from their school days. Before she enacted her plans. Before the world begin its inevitable crumble.

This was a moment that any boring person would refer to as carefree.

“Good morning!”

Komaeda Nagito was smiling brightly as per usual, lightly swinging a plastic bag as he skipped inside. There was a bounce to his step, a twitch of his expression, and then, Komaeda’s gaze flickered towards him. And lingered.

“...Why is that marionette in the bed?”

“Because he’s obviously feeling under the weather, idiot,” Matsuda snapped, swiping to take the bag from him. To his growing irritation, Komaeda pulled it away from his reach. “Komaeda, what the hell even is _it_?”

“I didn’t think puppets could get sick,” Komaeda said almost innocently. Then he grinned. “But of course! I was here to deliver you some lunch! You so rarely eat, Matsuda-kun, that’s no good! You have to keep your energy up as much as you can!”

“Uh, huh.” Matsuda’s brow furrowed before he just sighed and held out his hand. “Put it here, then.”

Giggling, Komaeda handed him the packaged sandwich.

“I bought it at the campus cafeteria, so sorry it’s not as good as Hanamura-kun’s homemade.”

“It’s also way less likely to be drugged, so I’ll take it. Please and thank you.”

Komaeda snorted; Matsuda unwrapped the sandwich and took a messy bite.

At the time, he himself could only watch quietly and vigilantly. Even from here, even like this, he had known every component of that sandwich down to the crumbs. Komaeda once more glanced his way. Those ivory lashes lower, and that easy smile dropped into an almost scowl.

“If all else you’re going to do is act pissy towards the pet project, you can just leave if you like, Komaeda,” Matsuda said, mouth half-full. “Or has your brain just gotten worse? I can check.”

“Ah, no, sorry, I’ll behave.” Komaeda waved his hand. “I, um, actually I...was going to eat here, too. But the bed is taken... But I guess someone like me should be happy with the floor.”

He had blinked at him; Komaeda had stubbornly kept his eyes averted.

“Whatever.” Matsuda swallowed. “Like hell it really mat...”

There was a resounding buzz from the doctor’s pager. Without missing a beat, Matsuda checked it. His scowl twisted and darkened.

“...shit. _Really_? Urgh. Well, that’s fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Oh!” Komaeda lit back up with that simplistic cheer. “Duty calls!”

“Don’t word it like that,” Matsuda snapped, shoving himself up still with his half-eaten sandwich in hand. “Looks like I’m going to have to eat on the run. Urgh.” He pointed at Komaeda sharply. “If you’re going to stick around, be _have_. You can take my seat but do not get crumbs on my fucking desk.”

Komaeda’s eyes shimmered with brimming tears. “M-Matsuda-kun really is so kind...!”

“Ew, gross. Keep your runny nose far fucking away from my desk too, alright?”

Sniffling, Komaeda quickly nodded. Sighing, Matsuda runs his fingers through his hair.

“...Kamukura.” Matsuda turned to him. “Once you’re feeling better, you’re free to go. And don’t mind this mushroom head, got it? He’s got a bark, alright, but he’s also...” Komaeda was still sniffling and trying in vain to wipe away trickling tears, drool, and mucus. He hadn’t seemed to notice the conversation currently going on. “ _Yeah_...”

He had only nodded in response.

With a sigh and a sloppy wave, Matsuda then headed out, shutting the door tightly behind him.

Komaeda blew his nose. And then, Komaeda met his gaze. Komaeda held that stare.

“...gross.”

Komaeda’s own face was gross, someone could say. Especially like that.

But he just hadn’t bothered.

_So boring._

“If you’re not feeling well,” Komaeda went on, frowning. “Does that mean you haven’t eaten, Kamukura-kun?”

He had perked up at that.

“...I do not require much nourishment. I have taken all the necessary vitamins. I will be fine.”

“Just the vitamins?” Komaeda asked. “What about an actual meal?”

“Unnecessary.”

He had, of course, had meals before. He has had to prepare meals for the sake of showcasing his talent. But they had been—and still were superfluous. Unnecessary. The researchers hardly bothered for a reason.

Sometimes, Matsuda had snuck in snacks and offer him some. However, that often had been the extent of it.

Either way, Kamukura hadn’t given it much thought.

(If it hadn’t been for this moment, he’d likely continue to not give it much thought. But even with that...)

Komaeda had squirmed once he seated himself in Matsuda’s chair. He had blown his nose once more on tissue and then cleaned his face, tossing the trash. His cheeks were still flushed, eyes still rimmed with red. He bit his lip, worrying it with his teeth.

Kamukura had thought about how that lip would swell at this rate. And how really incredibly pitiful that was.

But Komaeda just kept talking.

“Just the vitamins... That sounds despairingly bland. You don’t even get toast in the mornings?”

“Ineffective. Too few calories.”

Komaeda puffed his cheeks. “Toast is good. Um, you should also drink milk, I think...”

“Ineffective. Too few vitamins. Too low a percentage.”

“But,” Komaeda said. “There’s at least the taste...”

“ _Irrelevant_. Boring.”

Fuming, Komaeda ducked his head, shaking just the slightest bit.

_This always happens._ Kamukura thought dully. _It only takes a word to set him off. Komaeda Nagito truly is drearily predictable. So boring. Trivial. Getting like this over such an inconsequentiality... Well. There is only so much logic to expect from one so drearily emotionally-driven._

(And even now, that hasn’t much changed.)

He had opened his mouth to say more, but instead caught the bag Komaeda Nagito threw at him, the bag containing another packaged sandwich. The one Komaeda Nagito had been planning to eat himself but wouldn’t have been able to finish due to his poor appetite. It had been expectable, then, that Komaeda Nagito, in spite of his misgivings, in spite of his irritations, had given it to him instead.

He _should_ have expected it.

(But he hadn’t. Not really.)

“Just vitamins and supplements aren’t enough,” Komaeda bit out. “You need something with taste for stimulation. Saying something like that is irrelevant—are you _stupid_?”

Kamukura blinked at him. Once. Twice.

_...stupid?_

(He hadn’t expected that either.)

“Stupid!” Komaeda exclaimed. “Yes! I just asked if you were stupid! And I meant it seriously! If you’re just a genius, you really should have thought of that...!”

“I had.” He regained his composure. But to have even lost it in the _first place_ —“I still deemed it irrelevant. Unnecessary.”

“Oh. I see.” Komaeda frowned, unimpressed. “You really are stupid, then.”

**_Stupid?_ **

“Are you too good to actually _eat_ something?” Komaeda asked haughtily, twirling a strand of ivory around his finger. “I really doubt that. So, you should just eat, Kamukura-kun. You’re feeling _under the weather_ after all. Something light like that sandwich should at least _help_.”

Kamukura stared at him. And then at the packaged sandwich. And then back at him. Then, exhaling, Kamukura swiftly undid the wrapping.

“If you insist, then.”

He didn’t waste time, eating and chewing at exactly the necessary speed for efficient digestion. Nothing more, nothing less. After all, he had thought that he shouldn’t waste too much effort on something so menial and so—unnecessary.

But Komaeda had smiled at him. It was supposed to just _be_ a smile. Just a smile. A quirk of the lips. Ten muscles. Insignificant. Unnecessary.

“Were you _really_ feeling unwell, Kamukura-kun?” he asked with a cheerful, barbed lilt.

It hadn’t been a smile.

The word _stupid_ had rung in his ears. How ridiculous. How _boring_.

(It still rings to this day.)

“Even I get tired,” he had found himself saying. “And those researchers do so love to test my patience in addition to my talents. It is only a break. That is all.”

He took another bite of his food.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Komaeda replied and he stretched. “Either way, it’s a huge waste of time. Hope can’t be cultivated through science. That’s ridiculous.” He laughed at the very thought. “It’s not _true_ hope. But it’s not your fault, of course. That idiot reserve course student asked for this. You didn’t.”

_One of these days, that running mouth of his will cause a considerable amount of trouble. But that would be expectable. It has almost certainly been doing that already._

“It does not matter to me,” Kamukura said. “Regardless of who it was, I would have existed like this.”

“The idea of something like you being mass-produced is quite frightening,” Komaeda said. “My, the world might crumble to pieces on the spot!”

“That would not happen.” A pause. “My creation was far too costly. In resources. In time. And there is still more troubleshooting and testing to do.”

“Aah, I suppose that’s true... I’m still worried though...” Komaeda drew in his knees. “But there’s not much I can do about it. How despairing.”

There was no point in responding, so he merely continued eating. Komaeda was quiet as well. And Kamukura popped in the last bite, licking off the last bit of crumbs from his fingertips.

_It had been..._

“Oh. How was it?” Komaeda asked, perking up even as his cheek remained rested against his knee. “Was it adequate, at least?”

“It was...” He tossed the trash with a proficient flick of his wrist. It landed perfectly into Matsuda’s wastebasket. “Adequate. Yes.”

_It was a sandwich. There is not much else to say._

With that, he just lied down with a sigh.

“You’re just going to sleep? That’s pretty dangerous,” Komaeda said. “I might get bored and decide to doodle all over your face.”

“How boring.”

“I could also cut your hair,” he said. A pause. “Aha, that’s a horrible joke. I won’t do that. Also it’d be a waste of good scissors...probably.”

Kamukura had simply let his eyes fall shut. It would not take much to lull himself to sleep. How terribly boring it would be—but would it be any less so were he to remain awake?

“Kamukura-kun.”

There was just no real point.

“You really should eat more.”

It was just one of those days he remembered, back before everything fell apart.

(And yet, it was a memory that clung to him amidst the world’s rubble.)

* * *

“Here you are.”

“Ah. Oh. Thank you for the meal.” Komaeda’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but he still perks up at the porridge placed on his lap. He wafts the scent towards him, and sniffs. “It smells too good to be mere gruel.”

“I added extra ingredients,” Kamukura said. “Including medicine to help you feel better.”

“Aah, really?” Komaeda giggles a bit. “How thoughtful!”

He blows off the steam before he takes a bite. For a moment, his expression changed, eyes glimmering for a bit.

And if he hadn’t cried while he slept, perhaps there would be tears right now.

“...oh. It really does taste good.” He averts his gaze, smile gone. “Not that it’s...surprising.”

_You say that, but you are surprised, Komaeda Nagito._

Kamukura doesn’t say that aloud, however.

“Please eat it all,” he says instead. “For the sake of a speedy recovery.”

“...it’s almost too good to eat,” Komaeda mumbled, almost glumly. “Hey, Kamukura-kun, why is it...?” He trails off, like he can’t bear to say it. “I... Never mind. I’ll eat it then. I’m sick of having to rely on you anyway. Yeah.”

“Yes,” Kamukura echoed. “So eat it all so that you may regain your strength.”

“Not that there’s much to regain,” Komaeda added, almost bitterly, but he kept his stare stubbornly away. Instead, he stared at the flowers, and his face fell. “Ahhh... Several of them are gone.”

“Because they were decaying,” Kamukura said. “They would have attracted bugs and bacteria, which would’ve impeded your recovery.”

“Ah, huh.” A pause. A soft laugh. “Wilted flowers can be more beautiful than those in bloom. So it’s still a shame.”

_That is..._

“Is it because of the symbolism you say that?” Kamukura asked. “How dull. Flowers are flowers.”

“Flowers are _life_ , just as all living things are,” Komaeda said firmly. Then, rather suddenly, he turned back and smiled at him. “Even a rotting flower is flourishing with _life_ , Kamukura-kun!”

Kamukura stares.

“...I suppose that is correct, from a technical aspect.”

_Komaeda Nagito is..._

“It’s for reasons like this that you can never be true hope even apart from the technical aspect,” Komaeda huffed. And then, a pause. “But... You’re not as hopeless as I thought you were. I apologize, then, for my excessive cruelty towards you, Kamukura-kun.”

“...”

Komaeda flustered.

“T-That doesn’t mean I dislike you that much less of course,” he rambled on. “I dislike you a little less but it’s not by much, I promise! You still have a lot about yourself that you should change, Kamukura-kun! Such as being way less cold! And playing along a lot more nicely with others!”

“Boring,” he said.

“Case in point,” Komaeda sighed and took another bite. His irritation immediately softened. “But... Maybe it’s difficult for you... It’s difficult, isn’t it, to be gentle in a world this harsh. Hahaha, even when it comes to kind-hearted people, I don’t expect them to treat me _gently_. That’s just effort I’m not worth.” He falters. “So then, why...?”

He nips at his spoon and then shakes his head.

“...never mind. I’m just rambling. It’s probably really annoying to listen to.”

“I do not care,” Kamukura said. “Whether you speak or do not speak, it matters not.”

Komaeda bristled, even though he had not meant anything negatively by that. However, he could tell that Komaeda seemed aware of that factoid, at least.

“Mmgh.” Komaeda seemed to eat a bit more quickly. “Whatever, what _ever_.”

“You will choke, Komaeda Nagito.”

Komaeda almost chokes. Kamukura delivers a swift smack to his back to get him coughing.

“Urgh... Ugh... Uu...”

Komaeda sniffled.

“...you really are too much, Kamukura-kun.”

“Am I?”

“You are,” he insisted. “You definitely are.”

“...Hmm.”

There was nothing more to say on that front. Komaeda finished his porridge in silence. And then, Komaeda laid back down. He said nothing more, even then.

_...frustrating person._

* * *

When he was well enough, the first thing Komaeda did was bury the remaining, dead spider lilies.

“It’ll bring nutrients to the soil,” Komaeda said. “And more flowers will blossom! It will be the hope that sprouts from despair!”

“It will do little,” Kamukura said. “The soil is tainted and vacuous. These flowers will hardly make a difference.”

“But a difference will be made, nonetheless,” Komaeda hummed, picking dirt from his fingertips. “Something is better than nothing, Kamukura-kun. You really should learn to appreciate the little things, ehe.”

“Boring,” was his own predictable response.

Wiping the dirt from his hands, Komaeda shakily stood up.

“Well, since I’m feeling much better, I suppose this is where we part,” he said. “Thank you again, for all that you’ve done for me, Kamukura-kun. As much as I hate being in your debt, I do still appreciate it.”

Kamukura remained quiet. Unsurprised, Komaeda gives a quiet, resigned sort of laugh.

“Well, that’s that. I guess I’ll be on my way.”

“You are just going to wander aimlessly?” he asked.

Komaeda nodded. “I’m going to just go wherever my luck takes me. I have a good feeling, since there was such a bout of bad luck before.” His smile twisted. “You’re going to just be wandering without purpose, so you have no room to judge, Kamukura-kun.”

“No, I do not. It does not really matter either way.”

Komaeda shrugged and tugged up his hood.

“I’ll be seeing you, if luck dictates it,” he hummed. “Will it be good luck or bad luck? Either way, I do so hope it’ll be significant all the same.”

He waves.

“Well, then.”

With that, he turns away and begins to walk. Kamukura watches him go, watches him take those first few steps.

“Komaeda... Nagito.”

He ended up speaking up, and Komaeda immediately spun back around on his heel, blinking wide eyes at him.

“T... Take care of yourself,” he said. “Just... Take care of yourself.”

Komaeda frowns, tilts his head, and turns back around, tossing a reply over his shoulder.

“Same to you, Kamukura-kun.”

He seemed to scamper away afterwards, as though in much more of a hurry than before. It would not surprise Kamukura if such were the case.

_However, there were...other surprises..._

He touches his mouth carefully, as though such an action would evoke an explanation for those words bursting out. Of course, no such thing happened.

_“It’s difficult, isn’t it, to be gentle in a world this harsh.”_

Kamukura mulled over those words.

_He was not wrong... But somehow, those words still irritated me. Strange, indeed._

Perhaps he was just tired of the harshness of the world.

It wouldn’t be that surprising. There was no point in dwelling; he should move on to wherever.

But, still.

_Komaeda Nagito... What kind of world do you truly yearn for? If it were indeed a kind and gentle one, then, that, I suppose...would not be as boring as this one._


End file.
